


Keep Moving Forward

by Karasu888



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Day 3: Crazy Little Thing Called Love Prompt, Dorian & His Amatus Prompt, LoveDorianWeek2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:31:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karasu888/pseuds/Karasu888
Summary: Why would Kestrel keep the fact that it's his name day hidden from those he loves?  Never one to leave a question unanswered, Dorian seeks out the truth while planning the best party Thedas has ever seen.  Hopefully it doesn't all blow up in his face.If you prefer to read in order, please see below:1. Retreat from Haven2. Captured3. It’s a Kind of Magic (partially posted)4. Demon Dreams5. Keep Moving Forward6. Time Past (WIP - currently posting)





	Keep Moving Forward

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started this as an idea around my own birthday back at the end of August. Do to the length and my own slow writing/lack of time, it took longer to produce then planned. It was just supposed to be a "brief" one-shot, lol. It also ties into the #LoveDorianWeek2018 event on Tumblr for the last week of September. I hope you enjoy!

For once, the day was warm.  Skyhold, nestled in the steep Fereldan mountains, maintained a cool temperature despite it being summer in the rest of the world.  But today was different.  There wasn’t a snowflake in the bright sky and it was a blessed relief.  This place was tolerable at best and downright dreary most days.  Or, at least it had been until he grew close to Kestrel, the purported Herald of Andraste.  While the lithe elven archer denied being a literal godsend, he’d definitely changed his life for the better.

Dorian smiled with that thought.  Maker, he loved him.

“What’s got your grinnin’ like you got a shipment of bees in your breeches?”

Ah, Sera.  Always so eloquent.  He turned in the direction of her voice, shielding his eyes against the rising sun that was peaking over the battlements.

Saddling right up next to him, she elbowed him hard in the ribs.  “You were thinking about ‘im, yeah?”

“Oofph,” he grunted with the blow, hand coming to the rescue to sooth the offended spot.  He would not blush.  That just wasn’t appropriate for his “evil Magister” façade but he was still curious.  “Is it that obvious?”

Sera grinned.  “Pfft.  You’re nutters if you think it isn’t!”

“He brightens around you too, Dorian.  Always so bright but even brighter still when you’re near.”

Both Sera and Dorian jumped at Cole’s sudden, interrupting presence.

“I told you not to just pop in like that, Creepy!  Ugh, I’m out.”  She gave a quick wiggle of her fingers to Dorian and a disgruntled glare to Cole before hurrying away.

“She doesn’t like me very much,” murmured Cole with a frown.

“You’re growing on her, just give it time.”

“Growing on her?  Like forest lichen on trees?  Would Sera be the tree?  I do like trees.”

Dorian laughed.  “I didn’t mean it quite so literally.”  Once his laughter died down, his words turned more serious.  “Is what you said about Kes true?”

Frowning, Cole responded, “Dorian, you know I don’t lie.  Why are you still filled with so much doubt?  He struggles to express how much he loves you.  Gentle touches, soft kisses, whispered words.  It’s never enough for him.”  He paused, eyes unfocused.  “He misses you.”

Well, that did it.  He’d royally lost the battle against his attempt to keep a cool, unfazed veneer.  Dorian felt his cheeks flush, pleased.  He _knew_ Kestrel loved him, but the affirmation was still welcomed.  And he was missed!  _Kaffas_!  What in the Fade was he still doing in the courtyard?  Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ve dallied long enough.  Thank you, Cole.”

The spirit left him with a smile as Dorian spun on his heels and dashed back to the keep.  In the most _dignified_ manner possible, of course.

* * *

               

Dorian used to sleep in before he met Kestrel and they started sharing his bed.  Over the weeks, and into months, he grew dependent on Kestrel’s warmth next to him.  He welcomed it and they spent many nights cuddling while they slept.  However, now when he rose early to go about his Inquisitor duties, Dorian found it difficult to go back to sleep without his presence.  Now, any normal person would’ve waited for their lover’s return but he was far from normal.  He didn’t want to seem clingy or reliant on his existence, so he took to wandering the grounds while Kestrel was out.  But that didn’t stop him from rushing back when he knew Kestrel returned.

Word within the stone walls, on the main floor, indicated the daily council meeting had ended and the Inquisitor had returned to his tower suite.  The guard let him pass without more than a cursory glance, his presence well known to the Inquisitor’s room.  Heart fluttering with the promise of seeing the man he loved – and maybe a bit from the several flights of stairs – he surged forward, taking them steps two at a time.

And he almost plowed Ibis over in his haste. 

Fumbling, she almost dropped a tray laden with several dishes and a bottle of something alcoholic but Dorian managed to steady her before there was a disaster.  A delicious aroma seized him, and his stomach growled. 

“Ah!  I’m sorry, sir.” 

Distracted by the wonderful smell, he waved away her apology.  “My fault.  Entirely,” he muttered, perusing what meal was in front of him.  He recognized venison steak and sautéed mushrooms, two of Kestrel’s favorite dishes.  It was a huge step up from usual mid-morning porridge.

Raising an eyebrow, he met Ibis’ gaze.  “What’s the special occasion?”  He knew it wasn’t a day of importance to him; he’d always had a knack for filing important dates and information away in his mind.

Her eyes widened.  “You don’t know…?”  She glanced up the stairs to ensure the door to Kestrel’s room was still closed.  Eagerness radiated from her slim frame as she whispered, “I shouldn’t say.”

Oh, but she wanted to.  Dorian smiled forgivingly.  “Of course.  I understand,” he sympathized.  He was good at this game.

Ibis’ eyes darted upward again as she chewed on her lower lip, longing to speak.

“Don’t fret.  I’m sure Kes just forgot to mention what the importance of today is.  Always so busy.”  He lightly patted her arm on the way past her, as if he didn’t care anything for the secret she was struggling to keep silent.

The fact that she knew something the Inquisitor’s own lover didn’t finally overwhelmed her and she blurted, “It’s his name day.”

Dorian halted, foot hovering over the next stair before carefully lowered.  “Today’s his name day?” he repeated, incredulous.

Ibis nodded her head, the bottle on the tray wobbling.  “Yes, so I had the chef prepare something special.  I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

“As am I,” he grumbled under his breath.  Why would Kestrel keep such a special day secret from him?  Sure, they’d been together for less than a year and they had bigger issues swirling around them but he always thought Kestrel would at least mention it when the day drew close.

“What, sir?” her uncertain voice interrupted his downward spiral.

Fronting his most charming smile, Dorian turned around and said, “I’ve got it from here, Ibis.”

Pouting, she hesitated, pulling the tray closer to herself.

“I will let Kes know how thoughtful you were.  Promise.”

That seemed to win her over.  Smiling bright, she handed the tray over without further complaint.

Once her blonde head disappeared back down the steps, Dorian took a deep breath to steady himself and marched up the last flight.  Perhaps if he appeared to walk with the confidence he actually lacked, the fears that plagued him would diminish.  Who in the ever-loving Fade forgot to mention their name day to their significant other?  Oh yes, anger was much better than doubt.

* * *

 

 

“Dorian!” Kestrel grinned wide and Dorian’s breath caught.  He would forsake everything for that smile.  Shaking himself out of a momentary stupor, he thought, _No, no, bad Dorian!  You’re supposed to be angry!_

Steeling his features in a frown, he watched Kestrel’s fall into confusion as the elf’s eyes roamed his face before dropping to the food in his hands.

“Is everything okay, _ma vhenan_?”

Back rigid, Dorian stalked over to the bed and put the tray down.  “Rumor has it, it’s a special day for you today.”  When Kestrel gave him a confused look, he gestured angrily down at the food.  “Ibis said it’s your name day today.”

Understanding flooded across his face.  “Dorian…”

He flung a barrage of questions at Kestrel, irritation fueling his tone.   “Why didn’t you tell me?  Why did I have to hear it from her?  Does everyone else know but me?” 

His lips formed a small “o” in surprise, brow furrowed in genuine bewilderment.  “What?  No, of course not.  No one knows.  Except Ibis and that’s only because she saw a letter from my Keeper the other day.”

Some of the tension oozed out of Dorian once he realized he wasn’t neglected.

“Oh, _ma vhenan_ ,” Kestrel murmured, a gentle smile warming his face as he closed the distance between them.  Placing a hand lightly on the exposed muscle of his chest, he leaned in and kissed Dorian. 

It was a tender kiss, soft and sweet, but too short for his liking.

Pulling away but remaining close, Kestrel continued, “You’re always the first to know any important information.  Which my name day is not.  It’s just like any other day.”  The way he hustled out the last sentence tickled the back of Dorian’s thoughts.

If the kiss hadn’t stolen all reasoning from him, Dorian would’ve asked more questions.  As it stood, it was all he could do to yank his eyes away from Kestrel’s tempting lips. 

“I’m supposed to meet Solas now to work on strengthening my mark.  Meet me for lunch?”  The question carried more weight with it than those few words, hinting at the unspoken concern of if they were okay.

What a fool he’d been.  All anger gone, he nodded.  “Of course, _amatus_.”  He’d have to apologize for being so irrational later, mind already working on several ideas.

With a small peck on his cheek, they separated.  “Good.  I’ll see you then,” Kestrel said with a hesitant smile.

As he headed for the stairs, Dorian finally clawed his way out of his stupor and hurried to say, “I love you!”  No, not desperate sounding at all.

Bursting into a wide smile, he responded, “I love you too!” and blew him a kiss before disappearing down the stairs.

Certain Kestrel was gone, Dorian released a frustrated huff and plopped onto the bed.  He glanced over at the forgotten tray of food with a frown.  Something was bothering him.  The apology was needed but hardly troubling.  He was always willing to admit when he had erred.  No, something else nagged at him.  Searching inward, that rushed statement came forward almost immediately. _It’s just like any other day._   Kestrel only spoke quickly when he was lying.  It was an easy tell but one only a few of those closest to him seemed to pick up on.  Question was, why was that one statement a lie?  What had happened on this day so many years ago that left Kestrel unwilling to acknowledge the importance of his name day?

Dorian had too many questions and not enough answers.  Analyzing the problem didn’t get him any further either.  Kestrel was the keeper of this secret and he seemed unwilling to reveal.  Perhaps he was thinking about this wrong.  Instead of digging up the past and its bad memories, what if he gave him some good ones of this day to remember instead?

Plan devised, he felt a whole lot better about his path forward.  Time to get to work.

* * *

 

“Hey, Sparkler.”

“Varric, just the dwarf I was looking for!” Dorian said, face blooming into a charming smile.

“Uh-oh.  I don’t like that look…”  He stood up from his leaning posture against the hearth in the main hall, looking cautious.

“Oh, but you’ll love the news I have to tell you.”

Caution shifted to guarded curiosity.  “News?”

Dorian eased closer.  “Did you know that today is Kes’ name day?”

“What!” blurted Varric, quickly hushing himself when he noticed several glances their way.  “How come no one told me?  We don’t have anything planned, do we?”

“I just found out myself.”  He let that statement hang in the air for a minute.

“Oh…oh!  Fuck, that kid has been through too much already.  Now he’s hiding the fact it’s his birth day?  Any idea what happened?”

Shaking his head, Dorian answered, “No.  And even if I did, I’d hesitate to tell you.  Wouldn’t want it ending up in one of your books.  Kes would murder me.  After his additional training, he can do it without any weapons now, you know.  Gone without a trace.”

Varric snorted.  “I don’t know, things would be awfully quiet without you around, Sparkler.”

“Me?  Loud?” He placed a hand on his chest from the mock affront, smirking.  “I’m offended, really.” 

That earned him a quick burst of laughter from the grinning dwarf.

“But this isn’t about me.  I want to give Kes a good day to remember and I think you can help.”

“Whoa!  I’m happy you two found each other in this crazy world but don’t you think three is a bit much?  Plus, Bianca might get jealous.”

Rolling his eyes, Dorian continued, “I want to surprise Kes with a party tonight.  Gather everyone you can at Herald’s Rest and I’ll bring him by right after sunset.”

“You want to surprise him?  Are you sure that will go over well?  He doesn’t really seem like the surprise type, Dorian.”

“The shock will supersede the bad memories.”

“Or so you hope.  This could royally backfire, you know.”

“Always the epitome of optimism, my dear friend.”

Varric shrugged.  “Just a realist.  But I agree Bullsye needs a party.  He’s too tense, like a constantly strung bowstring.  A party might do him some good.”

Clapping the dwarf on his shoulder, Dorian said with an appreciative smile, “Thank you.  We’ll see you tonight!”

Maker, he prayed his planned worked.

* * *

 

Dorian meandered to his alcove after parting ways with Varric, standing in front of the window which overlooked the courtyard.  He knew Varric would get everyone of the inner circled involved in creating the best party for Kestrel, the only thing he was uncertain of was how Kestrel would react.  Hopefully it didn’t blow up in his face like a fire mine.

Twirling his mustache as he worried, he missed the footsteps behind him and startled when arms curled around him from behind.

“Hello, _ma vhenan_ ,” murmured Kestrel before kissing the back of his neck.

He was already done with his studies with Solas?  He’d been so lost in thought, he hadn’t realized how much time had slipped by.

Twisting in Kestrel’s arms, he turned around to face him, forced smile doing nothing to erase the obvious lines of concern creasing his forehead.

“Uh oh…I know that look.  You’re worried about something but trying to pretend you’re not.  What is it?  Are you jealous of Solas again?” he jested, eyes searching his.

Might as well come right out with it.  “I’m sorry for this morning, _amatus_.  But why don’t you want anyone to know what today is?  We could’ve celebrated it.  Thrown a party the likes of which Thedas has never seen before.”

Kestrel playful smile dropped and he withdrew his arms, instead crossing them over his chest.  “I didn’t even realize it was today, Dorian.”  His slumping posture and gaze favoring the floor all pointed to the fact he was lying.  “Besides, I’ve never celebrated it before.  I’m not about to start now.  …Why don’t we go get lunch?”

“I’m not buying it, Kes.  What’s the truth?”

“Creators, Dorian!  Why do you care?” he snapped.  Jaw clenching, he maintained a glare before stalking out of the alcove to the overlook.  With a huff, he finally said, “The Dalish don’t celebrate name days, okay?  In my Clan, everyone was expected to work together.  No one was supposed to be better than the next so showing preferential treatment to someone just because they were born that day didn’t happen.” 

Dorian followed him over to where he was standing but Kestrel refused to meet his gaze, instead glancing over the railing and down at Solas who was sipping a cup of tea.  

“Name days aren’t important,” he insisted.  “There’s a saying, ‘The elf that stands above the rest is also the first to get his head bitten off by Fen’harel’.”

Solas, normally so composed, lost himself to a coughing fit, presumably choking on his tea. 

Confirming he would live with a cursory look, Dorian oriented his attention back to Kestrel.  “So it’s a modesty thing?  I hate to break it to you, Kes, but you’re way past being unnoticed now.  Might as well enjoy the celebrity of it all!”

An odd expression crossed his face before Kestrel’s bearing shifted, immediately loosening like he was preparing for battle.  A sly smile crept over his features.  Tilting his head, he placed a hand on Dorian’s arm and leaned in to whisper, “On second thought, I’m really not that hungry.  No one will be looking for me for a bit if you care to join me in my room?”

It was such an obvious attempt to distract him and there was something so forced about his flirting.  He really was off his game today and that made Dorian even more concerned.  Playing obtuse, Dorian said, “Well, the venison steak and mushrooms are still there, I imagine.  You could enjoy that for your birth day lunch.”

All seduction stopped, Kestrel’s grin shifted into a sadder version of itself, distance between them growing.  “I…I don’t deserve that,” he whispered barely loud enough for Dorian to hear.

“Kes…”  What was he hiding from him?

He rubbed the bridge of his nose in irritation, interrupting with a stronger voice, “On second thought, I have a bunch of paperwork to finish, otherwise Josephine will get upset.  If I get started now, I may be done by this evening if you care to stop by then.”

“Oh, alright,” Dorian responded, understanding he’d already pushed too far.

Kestrel watched him for a moment, mouth opening like he planned on saying something more.  With a small shake of his head, deciding against it, he muttered, “I…I’ll see you later, Dorian.”

Once he’d left the area, Dorian expelled a heavy sigh.  “ _Kaffas_ …”

“He doesn’t want you to know the pain today brings him,” said a voice softly from behind.

He tensed with surprised but, recognizing the voice, he forced himself to relax.  “Yes, thank you, Cole.  I’ve already gathered as much.”

“The pain is old and buried deep.  He doesn’t want me to reach it.  He doesn’t want anyone to reach it.”

“That would explain it,” said a third voice.

This time Dorian did jump.  He spun around as elegantly as possible and squared off against Solas. 

The elf cocked an eyebrow in mild amusement before continuing, “Kestrel did seem distracted during our lesson.  He’s normally quite focused but I found his attention span lacking today.  Is something amiss?”

“It’s his name day, Solas.  But rather than celebrating it like a normal person, he’s pretending today is nothing special and avoiding all of my attempts to discuss.”

Solas clasped his hands behind his back, staring down the rotunda to the door Kestrel disappeared through.  “Perhaps you should leave it alone.  We all have secrets we wish not to share.  Digging into his past, especially as unwelcomed as it seems, will not help him.”

“Yes.  Sometimes when I release the pain, there’s relief.”  As Cole tugged on the brim of his hat, shielding his eyes, his voice dropped to a whisper, “Other times the pain multiplies until it coats everything.  Every memory, every thought.  It’s horrible.”

Ignoring the disturbing comment, Solas fixated his attention on Dorian, “You understand you cannot fix everything wrong with the Inquisitor, correct?”

“You two are really setting me up to succeed, aren’t you?  Such optimistic friends I have,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words.  But behind his defensive attitude, doubt started to fester.  Perhaps what he planned for Kestrel wasn’t the best idea.  _No!_   Best stop that line of thinking there.  Plus, he couldn’t crumble before Solas.  He had a confident image to maintain, after all.  Unable to keep the sneer from his words, he continued, “Well, if you’re Kestrel’s friends, I’m going to surprise him with a celebration after sunset at Herald’s Rest.  I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you were both there.”  He couldn’t resist a final, self-depreciating jab, “And, if this goes horribly awry, you’ll be there to watch.”

Solas opened his mouth to speak again but Dorian didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say, opting for marching away from the two instead.  He stalked right out of the tower and kept going until he was clear of the main keep.

Taking a deep breath of the cool air to collect himself, his eyes were drawn across the courtyard to the tavern.  From his perch on the stairs, he could see a flurry of activity surrounded the building with people dashing to and from, arms filled with flowers, kegs, or food.  The sun indicated early afternoon and preparations were in full swing.

This was all too much, wasn’t it?  He wanted to give Kestrel a celebration he would never forget to show how much he cared for the elf but this had “pending catastrophe” written all over it.  Sure, Kestrel could miraculously praise him for such a fine party and forget his troubles for the night.  Or, the more likely scenario, he could curse Dorian’s very existence and call off their relationship over him being insensitive to his request to let the day pass quietly.  Fingers nervously twirled the curl of his mustache as he debated on what to do. 

 _Kaffas_ …!  This was all too big of a risk.  He needed to find Varric. 

* * *

 

 

 

Several hours later and he’d had no success in tracking down the dwarf.  How could a man with such a big presence simply disappear?  Oh sure, he’d found many people who stopped him and professed how excited they were for this evening but not one could direct him one step closer to Varric.

On his second pass around the backside of the tavern, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Hey, Dorian!”

Not the person he was looking for.  “Bull,” he greeted half-heartedly, eyes wandering the grounds.  As the big Qunari closed the distance between them, Dorian found his view increasingly dominated by a swath of bare, gray skin, two dark nipples featured prominently in his line of sight. 

“Great idea for tonight!” he said, placing a meaty hand on Dorian’s shoulder.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen Varric by chance?” he asked, gaze rising as he skipped right over the compliment.

Iron Bull frowned.  “Why?  What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t quite stop the heavy sigh that escaped before he spoke.  “Nothing.”  Responding too quickly, he gained a furrowed brow.  Pushing forward, he continued, “But he’s been impossible to find.”

Bull doubled over in laughter, forcing Dorian to take a hasty step back or be skewered by his massive horns.  “Oh, that’s a good one!” he said between snorts of mirth, slapping his thigh.

Rolling his eyes in frustration, Dorian said through clenched teeth, “I was neither commenting on his stature nor his rogue talents.”

Iron Bull straightened and his amusement choked off with Dorian’s serious expression.  “Oh…well, I haven’t seen him,” he struggled to say, wiping a tear from his eye.  “What’s got you wound so tight?” he asked, sounding more somber.

“Nothing,” he repeated.  “Just…if you see him, _please_ let him know I’m looking for him.”

“Look, if you’re worried about tonight, don’t be.  Boss needs to _see_ how much we all love and appreciate him.  I sure he _knows_ it but seeing it is something different.  What better excuse for that than a party for his name day?”

Dorian sighed.  He seemed to be doing that a lot today.  But Bull did have a point.  “Perhaps,” he conceded.

Patting his shoulder, Bull said, “Not sure why you’re so worried but you’ll see.  Go have a glass of brandy and relax.  Varric has the planning under control and there’s no way Boss won’t enjoy himself!  There’s even rumor of a ‘pin-the-tail-on-the-halla’ game.  Paper halla, of course.”

Dorian frowned at the suggestion of unwinding, completely ignoring the rest of what he said.  “I should find Varric.”

“Look, don’t make me throw you over my shoulder and march you back to your little book nook!  If you’re stressed, you know Kestrel will be.  He seems to feed off your energy or something.”  His meaty fingers squeezed Dorian’s shoulder in reassurance before releasing.  When he looked like he was about to respond, he quickly cut him off, “If it makes you feel better, I promise I will send Varric your way if I see him but you need to work on changing your headspace before tonight.  Otherwise your mood’s enough to bring down the whole party.  And your frown is enough to give your handsome face some wrinkles.  Go, it’ll all be fine!” he continued when Dorian looked like he might say something again, practically shooing him away.

 _What an infuriating man!_   Dorian thought as he retreated across the courtyard.  He glanced up at Kestrel’s balcony, relieved when he didn’t see the familiar outline way above.  It would do no good if he saw him running around like a headless chicken.

Assessing the position of the sun, another sigh escaped him.  Looks like the celebration would stand.  At this point, there wasn’t enough time to stop the gathered momentum anyway.

Resigned, Dorian rubbed the bridge of his nose, the hint of a headache starting to creep in.  As infuriating as Bull could be, he was right.  Which perhaps made him even more frustrating.  He needed to change his mood and stop worrying or Kestrel would pick up on it.  That elf seemed to have a sixth sense for his feelings, especially when he was trying to appear unaffected or nonchalant when he felt anything but.

All he could focus on at this time was his own attitude and pray.  Maybe, if there was a kind Maker, tonight would go as planned.  He scoffed as he headed back to the keep.  If his life was anything to go by, the Maker had a twisted sense of humor.  _Venhedis_ , a glass of brandy sounded just wonderful right now. 

* * *

 

Several glasses later, the sun sat heavy on the horizon.  The time was nigh and the alcohol had done its job of suppressing all but a small twinge of concern.  It was time to collect his elven prince from his tower and take him to his ball.  With only a small wobble to the start of his step, he left the sanctity of his alcove, purposeful in his path.  If there was anything outside of magic he excelled at, it was oozing confidence.

A sharp knock on Kestrel’s door was answered with a muffled, “Come in!”  Permission granted, he breezed up the stairs, eager to see the man he loved.

“ _Ma vhenan_ ,” he greeted with a tired smile, hunched over his desk.  That simply wouldn’t do.

It took only a few long steps to close the distance between them and Dorian bowed with a flourish.  At some point in the motion, he snatched Kestrel’s hand in his, plying a slow kiss to its back.  The anchor mark made his palm itch but he ignored it.  “ _Amatus_ ,” he murmured into the skin, gaze peering over the obstacle to meet Kestrel’s expectantly.  And he didn’t disappoint.  A healthy flush rose to his cheeks, spreading wonderfully all the way to the points of his ears.

For a brief moment, Dorian contemplated forgetting the celebration and trading it for a quiet (or maybe not so quiet) night in bed.  He’d love to help that blush spread down his neck all the way to the top of his chest.  He’d managed such a feat with just a kiss before.  A smirk graced his lips with the thought as he stood up straight, using his hold on Kestrel’s hand to draw him to his feet too.

“Dorian…?” he asked, uncertain what he had planned.

Eyes roaming Kestrel’s features, they switched from praising to assessing.  He seemed tired and more subdued that usual but all attitude from earlier gone.  Maybe tonight would go well and he could experiment with how far he could push Kestrel’s blush after the party.  “Care to join me for dinner at Herald’s Rest?” he asked.

Wrinkling his nose, he said, “I really wish they’d change the name of the tavern.  Something like Archer’s Drinking Well or…”

“The Elven Respite?” Dorian offered jokingly.

“Hmm…too racial.  Wouldn’t want humans to think they’re not welcomed,” Kestrel retorted with a playful grin.

“Humble Herald’s Hideaway?”

“More like Irritable Inquisitor’s Watering Hole.”

“Assassin’s Poison Pit?”

“Ooo…I like that one.  It’ll keep everyone away.  How about Your _Retired_ Worship’s Well?”

Dorian laughed, enjoying their spirited banter.  “Only if you want to give Josephine and Cullen heart attacks with that one.”

Kestrel joined in with a chuckle.  When their laughter quieted, his fingers squeezed Dorian’s hand.  “I missed you.  I’m sorry for earlier.”

Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Kestrel’s high cheekbone.  “I’m sorry too.  Let bygones be bygones,” he said softly.  “Only the future waits, there’s no need to dwell in the past.”  Easier said than done, he knew, but he felt like Kestrel needed to hear it.

Pulling away but still keeping their fingers entangled, he met Dorian’s eyes with a sad smile.  “Of course.”  Forcing some cheer into his voice, he said, “You mentioned dinner?  I could eat.”

“Yes!  Come, amatus.  Let’s celebrate this evening!”  Not what he’d meant to say but the brandy sometimes manipulated his words at the most inopportune times.

Kestrel gave him an odd look at his choice of expression.

“I’m famished, no dawdling!” he urged, pulling Kestrel along by his hand.

* * *

 

“Where is everyone?” Kestrel asked while they walked across the near-empty courtyard.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place so empty.”

Dorian offered a noncommittal shrug.  His focus was primarily on the tavern ahead.  The sun had set and the moon a small sliver.  The light filtering out into their path from underneath the closed door was like a beacon, drawing them closer.

Just as he was thinking the building was strangely subdued for the time of night, Kestrel said, “Why is the tavern so quiet?”

Dorian kept pulling him along, worried where this line of questioning would lead.  Hand on the handle, he started to push but Kestrel pulled him back.  “Dorian, something isn’t right here.”  He drew his dagger from his hip.  “Let me go first.”

While he found it profoundly attractive when Kestrel took charge, he knew he was misreading the situation.  But, before he could protest, Kestrel yanked open the door and slipped in sideways.

 _Maker’s breath, I hope he doesn’t stab anyone before they get a chance to wish him a happy name day!_   He decided it was best to hurry in after him. 

* * *

 

 

“Happy name day!” cried a chorus of voices, welcoming them into Herald’s Rest.  People sprung out of every nook and crevice, familiar faces all around beaming and clapping.  Dorian plowed right into Kestrel’s back who stood in the entryway, stunned motionless with his blade hanging in the air, still poised for an attack.

Dorian remained behind him, allowed Kestrel to soak it all in.  So far so good.  No one stabbed, at least.

“Kes!  Happy whatchacallit day!” said Sera, taking the dagger from his frozen fingers before slinging her arms around him in a big hug.  “I made your favorite cookies!  No pepper this time!”  She put the knife back in his hand before stepping back to let the next person through.

“Boss, I don’t think this is that type of party!” Bull greeted, eyeing the dagger as he cheerfully slapped Kestrel on the back.  The second mention was enough for him to sheath it but otherwise he remained emotionless and still.  “From the Chargers, we wish you the best name day!” he said, handing him a mug of ale.  The rest of his gang crowded around, offering pats and hard hugs of their own.

“Ah, Inquisitor Lavellan, happy name day,” said Cullen as the Chargers walked away, Josephine smiling wide at his side.  Leliana materialized next to them and clinked her mug against Kestrel’s.

“Come now, Curly, no need to be so formal,” chastised Varric as he elbowed his way in.  “Elf of the hour!  You should thank Sparkler for the celebration.  If he hadn’t told me today was so special, none of us would’ve know!”

“Kestrel, you should’ve told us today was your special day.  We would’ve decorated all of Skyhold and held a week-long celebration.  I would’ve notified diplomats from Orlais and the Feralden court so they were present too.  As it was, we just had enough time to throw this together,” Josephine said, gesturing at their surroundings.  Garland woven from ivy and pliable willow branches draped from corner to corner.  Pale blue crystal grace, Kestrel’s favorite flower, adorned every table as a centerpiece, accentuated with leafy fronds.  Tasteful, paper streamers hung from the rafters and over the second-floor banisters.  In the center of the room, where Maryden normally performed, sat a large banquet table, full of a variety of dishes.  No area of the tavern was spared Josephine’s decorative touch.

“We’re all happy we get a chance to show you our appreciation for everything you’ve done, Kestrel.  I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but you’ve remained through everything so far.  I admire that,” Cassandra said with a small smile - a present all in itself.

“Yes, I have to agree with Cassandra.  You have accepted all of us into the Inquisition and as your friends, despite our different backgrounds.  What a great opportunity to celebrate you, our friend.”

“Aww, Blackwall, I didn’t know you were such a big softie!” Sera hung on his arm, beer sloshing over the edge of her cup, poking his cheek.  “Oi, listen up!” she shouted into the crowd.  As soon as they had quieted, she raised her mug into the air and yelled, “Three cheers for Kes!”

“Here here!”

Dorian’s eyes shifted from the crowd of friends to Kestrel just as his small frame started to tremble.

“Here here!”

His shoulders hunched and his head lowered.  Dorian took a step closer, reaching out.

“Here here!”

Kestrel bolted.  As the final cheer still rang through the air, he spun around and shoved past Dorian, cheeks glistening.

Left alone to face the startled, gaping crowd, Dorian cursed and hurried after him.

* * *

 

Unaccustomed to the sudden darkness, he searched in vain as his eyes adjusted.  “Kes?” he called out.

“I asked him if he wanted to forget his pain, Dorian.”

Dorian jumped - actually jumped - off the ground in surprise.  “Cole!  You...you definitely need a bell,” he muttered, hand clutching his chest as if to ease his pounding heart.

“He said no.  I don’t know how to help him.”

“Where is he?” he asked, eyes squinting as if that would help him see into the night better.

“On the wall,” Cole answered, pointing towards the stairway that led up to the battlements.  After a pause, he continued, “Maybe you can help him better than I can.”

“I will try my best.”

He took the stairs one at a time, so slow someone observing would’ve wondered what was wrong with him.  But if this was to be the end of their relationship, he wanted to drag it out as long as possible.

At the top, he was breathing hard but not from exertion.  Emotions welled up in him when he spotted the hunched figure of his lover, facing away toward the valley.  He couldn’t have seen much with his head buried in the palms of his hands.  His mug of beer sat neglected on the stone wall.

He had done this.  This was his fault.  Perhaps, if he had let his father change him through blood magic, at least he wouldn’t have harmed Kestrel.  He would’ve never had the opportunity to.  What a ridiculous thought.  Dwelling in what could’ve been was useless and wallowing in self-pity even more so.  He had to make this right. 

Pulling his own head out of his ass, he marched over to Kestrel and saddled up next to him.  Sniffles were the only noise that broke the silence of the cold mountain night.  Their arms brushed against each other with only the faintest of touches.  He felt Kestrel stiffen and his sobs quiet, finally realizing his presence.

“I’m sorry,” Dorian murmured, facing the valley too.  Even though Kestrel could be emotional, he knew he didn’t like him to witness it.

There was a very pregnant pause before Kestrel responded, voice muffled by his hands, “I want to be mad at you, Dorian.  You never know how to let anything go.  You see a problem or have a question and you seek, seek, seek until you have the answer.  Always pushing.  And yet, that’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

Dorian didn’t know what to say to that.  Normally he had no difficulty filling the voids of a conversation but he stood their speechless, pondering whether Kestrel’s words were for better or for worse.

With a heavy sigh, his hands fell away.  Still sniffling, he continued, “I suppose I should tell you why I hate today over all others.  At least to settle your own curiosity.”  Now clear of the obstacle, his voice sounded raw and broken.

Risking a glance, Dorian grimaced at his tear streaked cheeks and runny nose.  All his fault.  At least this he could fix.  He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it over as a silent apology to follow up his verbal one.

Kestrel accepted the peace offering and dabbed at his face.  Once done, he pocketed the cloth and leaned against Dorian, arm to arm.  A cold wind blew up from the valley, whistling over the stone.  Despite his words, Kestrel remained quiet, a deep frown etched into his features.

At least the touch was a good sign.  With a bit more coaxing, it sounded like he’d be able to find out what was troubling him.  “Perhaps it will do some good to share.  That way you’re not responsible for the burden today holds all on your own,” Dorian prompted, fingers slipping into Kestrel’s out of habit. 

“You’re right.  You’re always right, _ma vhenan_.  Infuriatingly so, sometimes.” 

Dorian chuckled.  “So I’ve been told.”

He rested his head on Dorian’s shoulder, shuddering.  It wasn’t until he wrapped his arm around Kestrel’s waist that he began speaking.  “When I was seven, all I wanted to be was a Hunter for my Clan.  I begged my parents to let me start practicing with a bow but they thought I was too young.  You see, they’d lost their first child, when he was less than a year old, before I was even born, so they had always been overly protective of me.  Or at least that’s what was explained to me.  Anyway, I thought for sure, on my eighth name day, they would gift me a bow.  That was all I had asked for and surely they wouldn’t deny my one request.”  Kestrel hissed the last sentence, fingers clenching around Dorian’s.  “Instead, they gifted me a wooden horse.  And, as the spoiled brat I was, I threw a tantrum and ran off right in the middle of my celebration.  I ran so far that I got lost in the woods, unable to find my way back.”  He paused to take a deep breath, body trembling.  “My Clan found me two days later.  I was hungry and cold but otherwise unscathed.  It wasn’t until we made it back to the aravels that I found out my parents weren’t so lucky.

“Oh, Dorian, it’s my fault they died,” he sobbed anew, curling himself against Dorian’s chest, fingers clutching the cloth of his shirt.

“Shhh, it’s okay, _amatus_ ,” he soothed, hands rubbing along his back.  Fingers explored further upward, slipping up the shorned back of his head, stroking his scalp.  When his crying subsided, he asked in quiet voice, “What happened to them?”

It took some time but Kestrel finally answered into Dorian’s chest, face buried in the tear-stained fabric.  “They surprised some smugglers in the woods from Wycome and were slaughtered.  They were only out that far away from camp because they were looking for me.  I killed my parents on my name day, Dorian.  I don’t deserve to celebrate.  I don’t deserve any special treatment today.”

“Kes.”  He waited until Kestrel looked up at him from hiding.  Maker, his face was a mess again.  Cupping his face in his hands, his thumbs brushed away the tear trails as he spoke, “You were only eight.  You were just a _child_.  You didn’t kill your parents or get them killed.  I can guarantee your parents wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for their premature deaths.  They’d want you to enjoy this day and celebrate for them.”

“But, if I hadn’t been such a bad child, they’d still be here, Dorian.”

“Perhaps, and perhaps not.  If we’re playing a game of ‘what ifs’, my father could’ve turned me into something I’m not but, instead, events put us here and now, with each other.  It’s quite possible if your parents hadn’t passed when they did, you would’ve never left your Clan to spy on the Conclave.  You would’ve never become Inquisitor and done all the good you have.  Think of all the lives you’ve impacted because you’re _here_. _Now_.”

“And I would’ve never met you,” Kestrel said, blue eyes meeting Dorian’s.

“That in itself is cause for celebration!” he responded with a modest grin, thumb caressing his cheek.

“I doubt I’ll ever be able to fully forgive myself…but I’ve carried this guilt for so long.  Maybe you’re right.  Focus on the future and don’t dwell in the past, right?”

“Ah, great words of wisdom from yours truly.  Proving I am, as you said, _always_ right.”

“What would I do without you?” Kestrel asked, a small smile of his own peeking through his shattered visage. 

He may have looked broken but Dorian knew he carried a silent strength in him that he’d known very few to possess.  Kestrel would be okay.  Relieved, he allowed himself another joke, “Why, be terribly bored, I assume.”  Still holding Kestrel’s face in his hands, he lowered his head as he spoke, closing the gap between them.  His lips hovered over Kestrel’s as if waiting for permission to clear the last length between them.

“Undoubtedly,” Kestrel whispered.  His hand crept up Dorian’s chest and around the back of his neck.  “I love you, _ma vhenan_.”

After Kestrel’s profession of love, he couldn’t hold back any longer and pressed his lips to his.  He allowed his kiss to express his relief and the love he felt for him in return.  He didn’t even care if his mustache ended messed.

Always so pliant and receptive to his touch, Kestrel melted against him with a soft whimper.

“You did help him, Dorian!”

“I think they’re duelin’ their iddybits up here.  Cover your eyes, Solas!”

“Please.  I’ve seen far worse.”

“Really?  I wouldn’t have guessed that.  You’ll have to tell me those stories some time,” chuckled Iron Bull.

Cassandra made a noise of disgust before muttering, “I told you we shouldn’t disturb them.”

“We’re all adults here.  Except for the demon, perhaps,” Vivienne said.

 “Kid, maybe you should cover your eyes,” offered Varric.

Sounding unusually pouty, Cole said, “But then I can’t see anything.” 

Reluctantly, he forced his lips from Kestrel’s and peered over his shoulder at the crew mounting the stairs.  He could almost feel the heat radiating off of Kestrel’s flushed, mortified features so he kept him in place, facing away from the crowd, with a tender hold on his shoulder.  “I can assure you haven’t quite made it to that stage yet, Sera.  And they’re hardly ‘iddy’,” he retorted, and Kestrel groaned with embarrassment.  “Now, can I help you?” he challenged, sounding a bit miffed at being interrupted.

“We just wanted to make sure Bullseye is doing okay,” answered Varric.

“Yeah, ya left so sudden like, Kes.  Everything alright?”

“He’s much better now.  Old pains fading,” Cole started.

“Cole-” Dorian cut in sharply.  It took a lot of convincing to get Kestrel’s thoughts away from his deceased parents; he didn’t want Cole dragging him back there.

“Let him continue, _ma vhenan_.”

“…giving way to love from a new family.”

Before Kestrel could speak, Iron Bull grabbed him in a big bear hug from behind, pulling the most undignified squeak from him.  Feet dangling well above the ground, Dorian said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d not break my _amatus_ , Bull.”

“Hey, I’m just showing Boss how much we love him!”

“Yeah, you even got the lone wolf out of his cave,” commented Blackwall, jerking a finger in Solas’ direction.

Despite the strain, he held a wide grin on his face.  Tapping out, he patted Bull’s arm until the massive Qunari put him gently back on the ground.  He turned around to address the group.  “I really appreciate you.  All of you.  For tonight and for all the support you’ve shown me.  Today is…”  He paused to shake his head.  “Today was the most dreaded day out of the year for me.  Out of every year.  But you’ve all given me a reason to set my guilt aside and celebrate.  I love you guys.  Cole was right, you’re my family now.”

Sera pounced on him and gave him a hearty hug, almost rivaling Bull’s in its strength.  “Awww…such a sap!  Always so but I love ya too, Kes.”

Kestrel laughed and hugged her back.  The sound warmed Dorian and made him smile in response.  He was grateful to hear such a happy sound emanating from him after so many shed tears.

The rest of the crew crowded around, each offering their hugs or pats on Kestrel’s back.  Solas only shook hands but they all showed their affection for the Inquisitor in their own way while Dorian hung back.

“What do you say about returning to the party, Bullsye?” asked Varric.

Cassandra retrieved his stein from the stone wall and handed it over.

“Let’s go!” Kestrel replied, taking a hearty sip of the chilled ale.

“That’s the spirit!” agreed Bull, leading the pack back towards the stairs.

Dorian lingered back, letting Kestrel enjoy his time with his other team mates.  After all, it wasn’t _required_ he spend every waking minute exclusively with him, right?  He’d surely see him later.  And with so many others surrounding him, his presence wouldn’t be missed.

Watching the gang disappear down the steps, his gut clenched with jealousy as a dark thought washed over him.  Was he past being needed?  Sure, he displayed a confident front, the best offered in all of Thedas if he was being modest, but it was only to cover the constant inner turmoil of self-doubt that rolled around within him.  Even after so long together, it was difficult to shake the despondent thinking.  Brandy helped dull it but its influence had worn off. 

After all, Kestrel hadn’t even looked back at him.  Perhaps he could afford to be altruistic for one eve.  At least his love was happy.  That was what truly mattered.  This night was his and not Dorian’s. 

An auburn topped head cleared the low wall and blue eyes found him through the torch-lit darkness.  “Aren’t you coming, _ma vhenan_?  I turned around and you weren’t there.  Is everything okay?”  His stood on the step below the landing, brow creased with concern but hand extended expectantly.

By the Maker, this elf never ceased to amaze him.  “Yes, everything is perfect, _amatus_ ,” he answered, quickly closing the distance between them and accepting the offered hand.  Their fingers entwined and he whispered to himself, “Just perfect.”

* * *

 

They stumbled into Kestrel’s tower room together.  Kestrel’s cheeks held a pleasant blushed, warmed from the inside thanks to the ample ale he drank at the tavern.  His freckled features always looked best with a crimson tinge, or so he thought.  Maybe because it reminded him of the beautiful hue they turned when in the middle of sex.  He swallowed hard, pulled back into the current moment from his thoughts when sweet lips pressed against his.

Dorian kissed Kestrel back.  Hard.  While he could never stomach the horse-wash, watered-down ale himself, it tasted sinfully delicious on the Inquisitor’s tongue.  Their tongues shared a dance, working in harmony with each other, neither fighting for dominance nor submitting.  Hands gripped clothing and he lost any idea of whose hands were where.

Kestrel was the first one to pull back, separating just enough to trail a soft line of kisses along Dorian’s smooth jaw to his ear.  Once there, he whispered, “Make love to me, _ma vhenan_.”   Fingers of one hand curled into Dorian’s dark hair while the other one reached down to cup his ass, pressing his growing need against his thigh.

The fact that Kestrel never verbalized his sexual demands drew a hurried groan from him.  The alcohol must have emboldened him.  Realizing that, Dorian reined in his desire and shifted away enough for their eyes to meet.  Gray skipped between blue before roaming southward over the elf’s flushed face.  Kestrel was tipsy - they both were - but not drunk.  Satisfied, he responded, “How can I say no to you on your name day, _amatus_?”

“You know you can never say no to me, no matter the day,” he said, fingers tightening their grip on Dorian’s ass.

“I may prove you wrong one day.”  He paused, watching Kestrel’s expression sink into a confused pout.  “But,” he continued, planting a brief kiss on his lips, “today is not that day.”

“You’re such a blasted tease!”

Smirking, he murmured against Kestrel’s mouth, “Oh, you think I’m a tease, do you?  Challenge accepted.  This is nothing.  I’ll show you how much of a blasted tease I can be.”  He stepped back before their lips touched again, leaving Kestrel holding nothing.  Before he could complain, he said, “Please sit on the bed.  Preferably without your clothes.”

He stood there for a moment, stunned.  Processing the request, his ears reddened as he complied, stripping one piece of clothing off at a time in an efficient and eager manner.  Dorian watched, pleased.  He may be the unwavering leader of the Inquisition but, in the bedroom, he knew Kestrel liked to relinquish his control and submit.

Once he had settled on to the edge of the bed, Dorian began to remove his own clothing.  Achingly slow.  At least Kestrel’s erect cock seemed painful as did the way his fingers dug into the mattress, like he was holding himself back.  He just had so many buckles!  It took time to undo each one, after all.

“Dorian…” he groaned when his chest was finally exposed.

“Hmm?” he responded with a smirk, running fingers from his collarbone, down the center of his chest, over his abs, and back up to swirl mindlessly around his nipple.  “Yes, _amatus_?  Is there something you want?” he purred.

Kestrel started to rise but Dorian held up a hand to stop him.  “No.  Stay seated,” he ordered.

Plopping back down with a whimper of protest, Kestrel began palming himself.  “ _Mala enaste_.”

 _Please_ , he translated.  He already had his love begging.  “All in good time,” he teased, maintaining eye contact while he slowly unlaced his pants.

Kestrel looked away first, eyes drawn to what his hands were doing.  Sucking on his lower lip, his fingers encircled his cock and began stroking. 

Hooking a thumb on either side of his pants, he pulled them down, exposing his thighs inch by inch until his cock sprang free. 

Kestrel groaned, hips thrusting into his hand and he watched the show.  “You’ve proven your point,” he muttered, gaze finally meeting his again.

“Oh?” Dorian said, sauntering over to within a few paces of him.

“You’re not only a blasted tease, you’re a damnable tease!  Now, please, _ma vhenan_ , don’t keep me waiting any longer…”

His cock twitched with the desperate plea.  Kestrel had no idea how enticing he was without even trying.  Reaching out, he cupped his face in his hand, thumb caressing his soft lips.

Excited by the contact, he leaned into the touch and opened his mouth, pulling Dorian’s finger in between his teeth.  His lips closed around it as his tongue teased.  Blue eyes met his as he spread his legs, making way between them for Dorian.

His cheeks puckered as he sucked on his finger and Dorian couldn’t contain a moan of aroused appreciation.  Thumb still trapped in place, he dropped to his knees, deciding to reciprocate the act with one of his own.  With his free hand, he directed the tip of Kestrel’s cock into his mouth, lips and tongue toying with the head.

Immediately, he felt fingers in his hair, stroking along his scalp before tugging and pushing, urging him further down.  Dorian complied, taking more of Kestrel’s length into his mouth.

Mimicking his own motions, he felt Kestrel trade his thumb for two other fingers, taking them deep into his mouth.  He was going to need those fingers back soon, though.

Kestrel gasped when he sucked hard and his fingers were released.  Perfect timing.

Using the wetted fingers, he searched between Kestrel’s parted legs.  They were lubed just enough to easily insert one into him, earning a pleased whimper.

Mouth and finger working in tandem, he pressed deeper into Kestrel while dropping his head lower, reversing both a few moments later.

The hold on his hair grew more impatient, both hands now clinging on as Kestrel’s hips thrusted up to meet his lips.  The head of his cock hit his gag reflex and Dorian swallowed back his body’s automatic reaction to reject.

“Ah…Dorian…!” Kestrel cried out, body tensing around him.

Well, that wouldn’t do.  Dorian pulled his mouth back with a noisy pop as his finger stilled inside of Kestrel.

The long, dissatisfied groan of an unrealized climax that left his partner, made him smirk.  Gray eyes looking up, he found stormy blue glaring back.  “Too soon, _amatus_ ,” he said.

“You’re a wretched Archdemon, you know that?  The worst that’s ever walked Thedas!” Kestrel cursed him, flopping onto his back dramatically.

“Mmm…an Archdemon?  That’s a new one,” he answered, slipping a second finger into him before curling.

As soon as that sensitive bundle of nerves was massaged, Kestrel arched his back into his touch.  He bit down on the back of his hand, muffling his pleased noises.

Dorian left Kestrel’s cock unattended, instead trailing a line of kisses and nips along his inner thigh.  As his lips traveled higher, up the elf’s abs, he paused to say, “Don’t hold back.  You know I love to hear your cries of pleasure.”

Complying, Kestrel’s hand fell away from his mouth.  A pleased blush settling around his throat as a loud moan escaped him with another thrust of his fingers.  “More…Dorian, I want more,” he vocalized, voice strengthening as he spoke.

“More…?  More of my fingers?” Dorian responded over his nipple, having worked his way further up.

“No…”

He brushed the tip of his tongue over the small nub before saying, “More of my tongue…?”

“No…!  No, Dorian…I want…”  Kestrel groaned, hiding his face behind his hand, unable to continue.

Honestly, he had to be the best tease that had ever existed.  He would keep playing this game until he heard the words his wanted.  He pressed a kiss against Kestrel’s throat, murmuring into the skin there, “More of my lips?”

“ _Fenedhis lasa_ ,” he hissed in frustration.

“Is that a yes?” he asked innocently, planting a soft kiss against Kestrel’s jaw.

“Fuck!  Dorian, I want your cock, okay?”  When Dorian didn’t immediately respond, he uncovered his eyes only to find the man grinning down at him with satisfaction.  That look alone was enough to make his blush run all the way down to his chest.

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” he crooned.

“Bastard.”

With a chuckle, he kissed Kestrel, meanwhile extracting his fingers.  Leaning back, he used his hands to grab his thighs, pushing them against his chest to expose his loosened hole.

Knowing and eager for what was next, Kestrel was already extending himself to reach the end table, snatching a small vial of oil from its surface.  Passing it over to Dorian, he wrapped his arm around his knees to keep them flush against his torso while his partner slicked himself up.

Dorian returned two lubricated fingers to Kestrel’s hole, pressing them in to ensure he was ready.

“Don’t make me ask again, _ma vhenan_ …” he whimpered.

As tempting as that was, he decided that he’d made Kestrel wait long enough.  He was done teasing.

Dorian eased the tip of his cock in until he felt Kestrel tense.  As many times as they had sex, he acted like he expected it to hurt each time - with good reason after his last relationship.  Dorian shoved that knowledge aside, knowing it led only to impotent anger.  Telling Kestrel to relax would be counterproductive, making him focus more on what was happening.  Instead, the best way to unwind him was to distract.  He leaned down and kissed Kestrel full on the lips.  Tongue questing forward, it begged entrance.  Kestrel was eager to comply, granting access with a soft whimper.  Successfully preoccupied, his body relaxed a few moments into the kiss, allowing Dorian to push further in, slowly and always carefully, ever cognizant of Kestrel’s reactions.

“Creators,” he groaned into Dorian’s kiss.

It didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, pushing in and withdrawing in a quick rhythm, Kestrel groaning with each motion.  For all his teasing, he knew he wouldn’t last long now that he was inside him.  Not with that fetching flush spreading further and those cries of desire echoing around the bed chamber.

He stood up straight, hands gripping Kestrel’s thighs and he pushed in to the hilt.  Fingers caressed his abs as an afterthought, lithe elven frame arching into every plunge, head following the curve and bowed back, lost to the pleasure.  His cock slapped his stomach with each rough thrust, creating a wanton and erotic image before him.

With a few more erratic thrusts, he came undone deep inside Kestrel, adding his own pleased cry to the chorus of noises.

His movements died down, breath heavy and labored.  As he tried to withdraw, Kestrel’s legs wrapped around him, trapping him inside.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, hand finding his hard cock and stroking.

“Maker, you’re glorious,” Dorian breathed, hardly complaining.  His hands grabbed Kestrel’s hips and rubbed slow circles while he worked himself to completion.

With a sharp exclamation, Kestrel came, spurting ribbons of cum along his chest.  It was only after the waves of pleasure subsided that he released Dorian.

Pink, flushed skin contrasted beautifully with the light, creamy lines and Dorian found it too tempting to resist.  Leaning over, he used his tongue to lick up the mess, taking his time.

Kestrel sighed, completely sated when Dorian settled in next to him on the bed.  Gazes meeting, he gave him the happiest of smiles and said, “Definitely the best name day I’ve had.  Thank you, Dorian.”

“Wait until next year,” he replied with a grin.

 

* * *

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

A tentative knock was just loud enough to carry up the stairs and into the main room.

“Come in,” answered Kestrel from his desk, already neck deep in paperwork.

Soft steps preceded the messenger who halted at the top of the stairs, eyes widening as they took in the sight of the large tower room with its Dalish patterned stained glass and ornate Orlesian furniture.

Kestrel cleared his throat, drawing the woman’s attention back to himself.

“Ah…!” she exclaimed, startled.  Blinking quickly, she glanced around the room again before acknowledging the Inquisitor sheepishly.  “I’m so sorry, Your Worship.  I was told Lord Pavus would be here.”

“That’s Inquisitor Lavellan and Altus Pavus,” corrected Dorian, emerging from the small bathroom, finger correcting a smug of eyeliner along his lower lash line.

“O-Of course!  So sorry, Altus Pavus,” she stammered, bowing quickly.

“Dorian, quit playing with the messenger.  I apologize for his manners.  He can be a bit irritable in the morning,” said Kestrel, rising to his feet with a kind smile.

“Of course!  Who wouldn’t be cantankerous with something that starts so early every single day?  As Inquisitor, you should decree that mornings are no longer allowed.”

Snorting in response, his smile shifted into a playful grin as he responded, “I’ll be sure to get right on that.”

Unsure what to make of their banter, the messenger shifted uneasily.

“Alright, before you faint from nerves, out with it.  What message do you have for me?”

“I…Right!  Yes, sir!  The message, sir.  I was told to let you know that your package has arrived.  It’s down in the-”

“Ah, wonderful news!” Dorian interrupted.  “Thank you.”  When the messenger remained, mouth still agape with her unfinished sentence, he suggested, “You may leave now.”

“Right!  So sorry!  Inquisitor Lavellan, Altus Pavus…good day!” she spouted quickly before running away.

“Dorian, you really must ease up on the new recruits.”  Kestrel’s grin widened as he walked over to him, brushing a few fingers along his hairline to correct a stray piece.

“Perhaps if Cullen trained them more in proper etiquette and less in swordplay, it wouldn’t be necessary,” he countered, smirking.

After planting a soft kiss to his cheek, Kestrel returned to his desk, riffling through a never-ending stack of paperwork.  “What did you get delivered this time?” he asked as an afterthought, frowning down at an offensive piece of paper in his hand.

Sauntering over, Dorian snatched the note out of his hand and placed it back on the wooden surface.  He would burn them all in an instant if he thought it would lessen Kestrel’s burden any.  “Care to accompany me?” he asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

Eyes jumping from the paper up to Dorian, Kestrel gestured helplessly at the desk.  “I have too much paperwork and not enough time, _ma vhenan_.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to return your gift.  What a pity.  All the way from Tevinter too.”

Curiosity piqued, he raised a brow in question.  “A gift for me?  Whatever could you have gotten for me from Tevinter?”

Dorian shrugged.  “I guess you’re too busy to find out.”

“But why do you have a present for me?  I don’t understand.”  Kestrel frowned, looking back down at the cluttered desk.  His eyes settled on a small, carved, wooden horse figure, rearing onto its hind legs.

“While I hardly need a specific reason to shower you in gifts, _amatus,_ let’s call this one a belated name day gift from your apologetic lover.”

“Dorian…” he said, features shifting to an expression of guilt.  “You know that’s not necessary.”

“You let Cole give you that figure from your past, surely I’m allowed to give you my own present for the future.  As a matter of fact, you’re deserving of much more but this one took up _all_ the space in the transport from Tevinter.”

At that, Kestrel’s eyes grew wide as they met his own, cheeks flushing with excitement and voice soft with wonder. “…What did you get me?”

Now that was the reaction he was looking for.  Dorian extended his hand across the desk.  “Come with me to find out.” 

He smiled when Kestrel accepted without further complaint. 

* * *

 

 

The morning air was brisk, but their companionship warmed one another as they made their way outside and towards the far side of the lower courtyard.

“There you are, Pavus,” greeted Horsemaster Dennet, cutting them off before they reached their destination.  “Inquisition,” he added, nodding his head to Kestrel.

“I pray the shipment arrived intact?” Dorian asked.

Frowning at his odd choice of words, it took a jerk of Dorian’s heads towards Kestrel before his expression changed to one of understanding.  “Oh!  Yes, fit as a fiddle.  You’ll find…it in the far stable.”

Kestrel’s fingers tightened around his at the mention of the stable.  While he seemed to love all creatures big and small – even those demon-toed nugs - he was an avid collector of mounts and the subtle promise of a new one sent his thin frame trembling with anticipation.

They past several of his prized mounts and, despite his eagerness, Kestrel took a moment to greet each one, even the Dracolisk that hissed at Dorian as he led the way.  The scaled creature nuzzled against the palm of the elf’s hand like a cat full of fresh cream.  Blasted beast.

When they neared the final stall, Kestrel sprinted ahead.  “Oh, Dorian!  She’s beautiful!” he gushed, already caressing the face of a snowy white mare.  She snorted into his hands, gray muzzle bumping his fingers for more attention which he was happy to oblige.

“She’s an Imperial Warmblood, the pride of Tevinter.  Sturdy and resilient but, unlike the pack mules they call horses in Fereldan, she’s also graceful and beautiful,” Dorian beamed, pleased with Kestrel’s reaction.  Who would’ve thought he’d find such joy in someone else’s happiness?

Kestrel pressed his forehead against the horse’s forelock, smiling from ear to ear.  “I love her,” he murmured, turning his head so his cheek rested against her nose and he could direct his full attention to Dorian.  “Thank you, _ma vhenan_.”

“Happy name day, _amatus_.  May we celebrate many more together!”


End file.
